


The Moon and The Sun

by Lucky107



Series: Strange Blood [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blind Character, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 19:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8069197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky107/pseuds/Lucky107
Summary: For her first day, it's been excruciating.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Harry's Game - Dierdre Shannon with Celtic Thunder - 2011

The barracks are cold come evening, even with the additional heat produced by a high concentration of human bodies.  Everyone is winding down for the night, but the atmosphere is unfamiliar and unkind to strangers.

Elara is touched by the chill as her fingertips ghost along the rough stone wall, carefully feeling her way down the steps.  In her other hand is a shield, far too large and too heavy for the young Breton's use.  In hands unfamiliar, the grip feels foreign and strange.

Beside her Tilma is quiet.

Without being told, Elara feels her way with a tentative foot to the bottom landing of the steps.  Once safely on the ground, she searches in the dark for the presence of her companion.  "Thank you."

For her first day, it's been excruciating and physically demanding.  Elara would be lying if she thought she wasn't worn out already, but Eorlund entrusted her with delivering the shield to its rightful owner and she was in no position to refuse: she was heading down to the barracks anyway.

It's certainly not easy.

"This way," Tilma says kindly and, following after the sound of her voice, Elara allows herself to be guided down the corridor.  The stone floor becomes a soft rug beneath her boots and Elara recalls walking in this direction to find Kodlak Whitemane earlier in the day.  "You handle yourself well, child.  Soon you won't need me at all."

Elara slows to a stop as Tilma's voice grows louder—closer.  "I'm not sure how long I intend to stay."

"Everyone is intimidated at first, my dear."  Tilma's hand touches Elara's shoulder, startling the girl.  "But always remember what you're doing it for.  If you really want to become a warrior of Jorrvaskr, your eyes won't hold you back."

But Elara's not so sure Tilma's right about this.  The concept makes enough sense, sure, but there's one problem: Elara still doesn't know what she's doing it for.  She's lost and she has nowhere else to go.  The Companions opened their home to her without asking questions.

It's all she has.

"Thank you, Tilma."  Elara's expression remains firm.  "If you don't mind, I'd like to take it on my own from here."

"Of course, child," the aging woman offers warmly.  The gentle hand on Elara's shoulder carefully guides her to the left.  "Follow this corridor six or seven paces - there's a doorway on your left.  That's Aela's room.  She ought to be there, this early in the evening."

One, two, three paces and the warmth of Tilma's hand fades.  Four, five, six paces down the corridor and Elara wonders if she's not gone too far.  Carefully - expectantly - she reaches out with her left hand and slowly feels her way along.  Cold stone.  Seven, eight paces now and she finds a smooth wooden surface.  A door frame.

Voices.

With a careful touch, Elara finds an empty space where the door should be.  "Pardon me."

The occupants of the room end their conversation prematurely.  Despite being unable to see, Elara can feel the eyes roaming up and down her body.  It's intimidating, being the new girl, because everyone is so quick to pass judgment.  A woman's voice - Aela's voice - addresses her powerfully: "Come in, sister."

The title feels odd given Elara was nothing more than a stranger mere hours ago.  With a meek bow of her head, Elara enters the room as she's told and offers the shield.  "I was sent by Eorlund to return this to you."

"Oh, were you now?"  Aela's voice carries a smile, but she accepts the shield as it's given.  "Thank you.  I hear you gave Vilkas a real run for his gold this morning at your skill testing.  It's been a long time since we've had someone with that kind of spirit around here."

Elara smiles bashfully, but she doesn't offer a response.  Instead, a man unfamiliar to Elara takes the opportunity to introduce himself.

"So, you're the new whelp, then?"  The small Breton turns her face in the direction of his voice.  "I'm Skjor.  I've heard a lot about you since your arrival.  How have you been fitting in?"

"It's... well, it's exhausting, that's for sure."

"It can be," Skjor agrees with a hearty laugh.  "If I can offer some advice, sister, you shouldn't devalue yourself among the Companions.  The services we provide are provided for a price, so don't let people like Eorlund bully you into doing their work for free, whelp."

It's the same speech Elara received from Eorlund and it makes her feel guilty for acting out of kindness.  "It's nothing," she insists.  "Really.  I need the practice."

The subject of her sight remains untouched, but if Skjor's really heard about her day, then he already knows.  He doesn't need to say anything to confirm she cannot see: her milky eyes are blank and unfocused, even if she turns her face in his direction out of respect.

He offers her a smile she cannot see.  "Very well.  You are a bright one, I'll give you that."

Aela clears her throat with an air of impatience, exchanging a look with Skjor that goes unseen by their latest companion.  "If the shield was your only business here, sister, I will call on Farkas to escort you to the bunks."

"Oh no, that's—"

"Sister," Aela reprimands, cutting Elara short.  The formality of the command keeps the young girl in line.  "Have you met Farkas yet?  What about Torvar, or our other new recruit, Ria?  Your relationship with your fellow shield siblings is important to your survival among us."

Dipping her head guiltily, Elara is given no choice but to accept these conditions.  There's a strong emphasis on companionship at Jorrvaskr that goes unmatched by any other guild in Skyrim.  It would be wise to learn it now rather than to pay for it later.

"Thank you."

Aela calls for Farkas and within seconds, the man is standing in the doorway.  "You called?"

"Farkas, can you show our new shield-sister to the bunks?"  She asks, knowing the answer will be 'Yes'.  Aela is charming and charismatic; anyone would bend their knee to her if she asked.  "If anyone else is still awake, perhaps take some time to introduce her—properly."

With a nod, Farkas agrees.

Elara hesitates until Aela touches her arm, guiding her with a gentle push towards the doorway.  She's embarrassed, being treated like a child, but she knows that she's the only one who sees it that way.  Stumbling only a little bit, Elara exits the room with a common parting: "Good night."

With careful steps, she follows the lonely echo of Farkas' heavier steps.  Aela and Skjor return to their quiet chatter as soon as their company departs.

When Farkas stops at the corridor's end, Elara is lost.

"I'm right here," he confirms, his voice drawing her back.  He realises for the first time the true extent of her condition.  "My brother wasn't lying, huh?"

For a moment, Elara just stares in Farkas' general direction.  Vilkas was rude with her earlier in the day - especially concerning her vision's impact on her becoming a warrior - and it made her hesitant to follow through with her training.  It was hard enough on the road, never having a place to settle and become familiar, but to know that the people here were going to make her life difficult was almost too much.

"No," Elara says finally.  "He doesn't have much faith in it, either."

Farkas chuckles and the footsteps resume.  Elara follows along quickly.  "You'll be sleeping just down the hallway.  When you come down the stairs, it's straight across from the landing.  It will be easy enough to find, so don't bother trying to run away on us."

"I'm not planning on running away," she retorts, so lost in her response that she doesn't notice the footsteps stop.  "I was born and raised this way, so I—"

_Oof._

Without realising it, Elara runs straight into Farkas' steel-clad arm.  It's solid, winding her on impact, but she manages to maintain her balance only through the support of Farkas' hand on her shoulder.  It takes her a minute to catch her breath, but when she does, she offers, "It's not perfect, but I can manage."

Farkas lets out a laugh.  "If you ever need help, ask.  Anyone will aid you here.  You're part of the family now, sister, and we won't leave you in the dark."  As he says this, she places a hand on that same steel-clad arm.  "We're almost there."

Elara's mind wants to say 'thank you', but her voice never comes.

No, because Farkas is right—Elara has successfully passed the initiation trials.  She's family now, whether Vilkas wants to accept that or not, and this is what family does for one another.  In situations like this, thanks is already understood.

"Vilkas can be brash," Farkas insists, as if reading her worried mind.  And perhaps he's reading her worried face.  "Don't let it rub you the wrong way.  He's like that with everyone."

Once they slow to a stop outside of the bunks, Elara releases Farkas and says, "You know, don't worry about introductions tonight.  I'll meet everyone eventually; I think I've changed my mind about staying here."

Farkas smiles a wary smile, though she can't see it. "Good. I'm not very good with people."

"You certainly had me fooled."  Elara smiles, too.


End file.
